Fatal Shooting on the
Vermilion River

By Ken Dupuy, Maurice, Louisiana

On Sunday September 24, 1893, the tranquility of the Vermilion River's
passage to the Gulf of Mexico was shattered by the firing of a .44 caliber
pistol. One man died almost instantly, and another man spent two years in
judicial limbo.

Dr. J. T. Abshire held an inquest on the death of John Ford. The
accused was 43-year-old
Martin Bagley, the owner of an
1,800 acre sugar cane plantation located on the Vermilion River. Did he
shoot Mr. Ford, and if he did, why? Such questions were to be answered
in a case that was concluded two years later. The judicial journey had all
the attractions, delays, and detours of current murder cases—those of O. J.
Simpson, of the Menendez brothers—and more.

The fatal shooting occurred on the Bagley plantation on a barge to which the
steamboat, the Mary Rose, was tied. The Mary Rose, at the time, was more
or less a has-been. It had had a starring role along the Vermilion
River in 1890. It had been employed as a clean-up boat and had helped to
clear the river of obstructions from Lafayette to Abbeville. The Mary Rose
also had carried passengers and cargo to and from Morgan City.

This steamboat even had the dubious honor of being instrumental in bringing
about a game between our Red Stockings baseball team and the Camellias of
Lafayette. The Camellias had come down to Abbeville on this boat one
summery day in June 1890. The steamboat had to bring the Camellias back to
Lafayette when the game ended abruptly in the 7th inning. Abbeville's team
had objected to a call by the umpire and had refused to continue the game.
The score at the time was 12 to 10 in favor of the Camellias.

Now, three years later, here was the Mary Rose, a silent witness to a heinous
act—the killing of a human being. It is ironic that this steamer had
played a life-saving role for the Bagley family, only nine months earlier.
About a half hour before sundown—between 4:30 p.m. and 4:45 p.m. by my
calculations—on December 26, 1892, a near fatal accident occurred. As
Bagley's train that hauled cane from the prairie to his refinery was passing
over a trestle "crossing the swamp," one of the "stringers" gave way. A
stringer, as far as I could learn, is the part of the trestle on which the cross
ties are nailed. The locomotive, carrying the engineer, the fireman, and John
Bagley, Martin's 12-year-old son, plunged into the waters below.
Surprisingly, only John was injured. According to the account in the
Meridional, "His scalp, starting on a line with his left ear and running across
the forehead and back to within a few inches of the nape of the neck, was torn
from the skull, and a piece of the bone over the left eye, about one and three
quarter inches in width and three inches in length was fractured and driven
below the level of the surrounding bone."

Obviously, John had sustained serious, probably life-threatening injuries.
Medical help was summoned and Drs. F. F. Young and C. J. Edwards came as soon as
they could get there. It was their opinion that John could best be helped
if he was brought to the Hotel Dieu in New Orleans. John was placed in a
"litter" and was taken to the Mary Rose which transported him to the railroad
depot. John was then carried by train to New Orleans. A Dr. Miles
operated on him that very night. Again by my calculations, the operation
surely occurred in the early morning hours of December 27th. At any rate,
little hope was held for his recovery. However, later that week, J. C.
Mouton returned from New Orleans with the news that John's "chances of recovery
are favorable." Thanks to one of John's grandsons, we learn that John had
had a silver plate placed in his head and that John had lived until 1949, at
which time he died from surgery complications that were unrelated to that
near-fatal accident in 1892.

It was reported, in an unrelated story in the Meridional, that on the
night of the accident the temperature had dropped to 20 degrees. Had the
freezing temperatures helped to save this child's life as sometimes happens with
near-drowning victims? John had to have been exposed to the cold while
medical help was being sought and until the doctors arrived. This injured
boy then had to be transported to the Mary Rose by stretcher, which surely took
considerable time. Were there stoves on board the steamboat and on the
train?

John's grandson also told me that John had named this grandson's mother,
"Mary Rose." Had John given her that name in honor of the steamboat that
had helped to save his life, or was the name unrelated to this boat?

At any rate, according to the account in the Meridional, on October 6, 1893,
Judge Allen listened to the testimony of several witnesses at the courthouse
about the shooting of John Ford. Dr. Abshire was the first witness and
testified to his findings. He declared that Mr. Ford's death was caused by
a pistol shot wound, which entered the brain "in front and ranging downwards."
The body had been found on the barge, and "one leg extended in the direction of
the steamboat." Mr. Ford had been carrying several items at the time of
the shooting and these were found under his body. They included "a bundle
of clothing, a mosquito bar, a box of soap and a closed razor; in pocket were
found a razor case and strop." Dr. Abshire concluded that Mr. Ford had
been shot "while in the act of stepping from the boat to the barge."

By the time that all testimony had been taken, 100 pages of "closely
written legal cap" had been recorded. The judge didn't finish hearing all
the witnesses until 1 a.m. Sunday October 8th! Imagine a trial, much less
a hearing, lasting that late into the night today.

Judge Allen ruled on October 14, 1893, that the evidence produced showed
"great presumption of guilt." He added, "I am forced to a conclusion...
circumstances... show no justification, excuse, or legal provocation for the
deed... bail is impossible." So, Mr. Bagley remained in the parish jail.

It wasn't long before rumors were spreading across the countryside that Mr.
Bagley was being allowed to go to the Ramsey Plantation every night. The
insinuation that Sheriff Alphonse LeBlanc would allow such a privilege to a
prisoner, infuriated the sheriff, who at this time was seriously ill with
malaria and a liver ailment. The extent of his anger can be measured by
his offering of a $50 reward for the identification of the person who had
started such a lie. That was a large sum of money in those days.

Interestingly, Martin Bagley himself came down with a liver ailment. In
December 1893, shortly before Sheriff LeBlanc was brought to New Orleans by Dr.
Robert J. Young for medical treatment, Mr. Bagley was being examined by a panel
of local physicians. The panel consisted of Drs. W. D. White, J. T.
Abshire, Robert J. Young, and F. F. Young. Bagley had applied for bail on
the grounds that he was "dangerously ill and might die or have his health
permanently impaired if he were to remain in jail." Dr. F. F. Young stated
in a sworn certificate that Bagley was seriously ill with "acute inflammation of
the liver and perityphlitis." He added that death was possible without
proper care and more sanitary surroundings.

Two days later, the other physicians concurred with Dr. Young's findings and
recommended more "hygienic surroundings." Judge Allen interviewed each of
these doctors individually, after which time he allowed Bagley to be released on
$20,000 bail. Mr. Bagley went home to his family. At a later date,
he had to be jailed again, but was released once more on January 13, 1894 on
another $20,000 bail.

The trial finally took place and the case was presented to the jury for
deliberation in late March or early April 1894. After 60 hours of
deliberation, the jury "agreed to disagree," and a mistrial was declared.
The jury had been 11 for conviction and one for acquittal. Who says one
person's vote doesn't count!

The judge released Bagley again, on another $20,000 bail, in April 1894.
A new trial was set for December 13, 1894. Even back then, a change of
venue was a legal maneuver. One was granted in this case, and this allowed
Mr. Bagley just enough time to finish grinding his crop by January 26, 1895.
Bagley then turned over his mill to the other parish planters who had been
unable to dispose of their cane "to derive some benefit from their crop."

Once more Bagley was delivered by some of his bondsmen to the authorities, on
February 10, 1895. Once more he was released, sometime later that month.
In April the trial, which would be held in Lafayette, was postponed until the
Fall because of the "absence of some witnesses." Finally, the case went to
trial in Lafayette. Before we look at the evidence and the verdict, let's
imagine this trial in Lafayette.

First of all, there weren't daily trips from Abbeville to Lafayette that
would be possible today. So, witnesses, Abbevillians interested in the
case, the defendant, and his lawyers had to travel to Lafayette where they would
have to remain for an indeterminate period of time.

Hotel rooms must have been at a premium for this "most famous (case) ever
tried before a Lafayette Bar," as the trial was characterized by the
Lafayette Advertiser. There was no indoor plumbing, so bathing was probably not
a daily ritual. Instead, the ubiquitous lavaboes and pitchers that
adorned all those hotel rooms in Hollywood Westerns were the weapons of choice
to fight the dirt, the heat, and the whiskers. The latter also were
challenged by those straight-edge razors that were essential items in all men's
traveling bags many years ago.

And what about sleep for these participants in and spectators of the Bagley
trial? We all know how difficult it is to sleep in beds other than our
own. The walls of those wooden hotels would contract and expand causing an
added distraction to the traveler even though they lived in wooden houses.
There were different temperature-generated moans and groans in the night than
they were accustomed to at home.

Assuming that the nights were warm or hot, then the windows had to remain
open. Even this late in the year, surely there were a few pesky mosquitoes
around that entered stealthily into the rooms only to announce their presence by
their signature whining, as though doomed by nature to forewarn their victims of
their predatory presence. If our travelers were lucky, they hadn't
forgotten to pack their mosquito bars which acted like screens to keep
mosquitoes out of the beds. Perhaps the hotels furnished these devises,
one of which was found at the murder scene.

Other noises broke the silence of the night. Stray dogs in search of
food and fun would bark argumentatively with other dogs even though they were
blocks apart. Horses in nearby livery stables would whinny and snort as
though complaining about how tired and sore they were from carrying insensitive,
spur-happy cowboys. Cats were not to be outdone by these other animals and
added to this discordant nocturnal serenade. Sleep at that time, no matter
where one slept, could not have been dependent on the virtual silence we expect
today!

What about the beds? Absent were the firm box spring mattresses and waterbeds
to which we are accustomed. Instead, floppy, quicksand-like mattresses
called for extraordinary skills to find a comfortable position. If the
night was hot, pillows had to be turned over frequently to keep the cool side
next to one's face.

Sleep finally swallowed the person, but it must have been in irregular
stretches of time as noises and the bed itself prevented a sound, uninterrupted
sleep. Just about the time REM sleep was entered into and dreams started
to entertain, the roosters awoke. Unfortunately, these proud males always
seem to have something to crow about!

If the weather was anything like it is today, the lawyers in the courtroom
had to fight the heat as well as one another in that two-story wooden
courthouse. The courtroom had several windows, but no ceiling
fans—electricity wouldn't come to Lafayette until 1898. So, there were
probably many of those old-time, hand-held fans-on-a-stick flailing the air in
futile attempts to dispel the heat and reduce the down-right sweating from the
stress and the temperature.

The trial ended sooner than it takes some juries to be selected today.
In any event, those who came to Lafayette for the trial had to contend with a
few idle hours at the end of each day's session. There were their rooms,
saloons, and perhaps locally-produced forms of entertainment, or an out-of-town
troupe with which to pass away those evenings. Some of the men may have
brought books, but they, and the lawyers who had to plan strategy for the next
day, had only lamps and lanterns to read by. These dim light sources
probably produced light no brighter than the glow from the screens of our
larger televisions.

The saloons in Lafayette, if anything like Abbeville's in those days,
probably didn't have those "dance-hall girls" that are always seen in Western
movies. There was probably a billiard table in some of those saloons,
where one's knowledge of geometry and the laws of physics, learned outside of
the classroom, could earn a man "fees" from others with less knowledge and
experience. Since I have no direct knowledge of prices in saloons at that
time—1895—I'll use a bill owed by E. I. Guegnon, the founder of the Meridional.
He ran up this bill in a Vermilionville "coffee house" in the early 1850s.
Inflation was much more limited, so I believe that the bar prices were virtually
the same in 1895. A shot of liquor or cognac, and a cigar each cost five
cents; a billiards game cost 20 cents. I can almost see the lawyers,
jurors, and spectators standing at the bar, or did each group go to separate
saloons?

Now, back to the trial that stirred up so much newspaper coverage.
Martin Bagley had at his defense table his own "dream team," one hundred
years ago. Seated in their suits and solemn faces were six defense
lawyers: Judge John Clegg of New Orleans; Judge C. Debaillon, and Joseph
Chargois of Lafayette; Charles Fontelieu of New Iberia; R. P. O'Bryan of
Calcasieu; and Mr. Southon of Houma. A poorer defendant could not have
afforded such a phalanx of pleaders.

District Attorney Minos T. Gordy stood toe to toe with these men as they
slugged it out litigiously. The total number of witnesses, however, were surely
few. Absent in that trial were the expert and rebuttal witnesses that clog
trials today.

Before going further with the trial, let's look at the crime scene. The
corpse lay on the barge, eternally still with blood oozing from the head wound.
One of the legs was "extended in the direction of the steamboat." The ball
or bullet had entered the brain in front and had traveled downward.
Beneath him were items that Mr. Ford must have been carrying at the time he was
shot. Included in the list of items, which may have been introduced
individually in a trial today, was a "bundle of clothing." There was a
mosquito bar even though the shooting occurred in late September.
Its presence on the scene adds to the probability that these protectors were
used during the nights during the trial. A box of soap, and a closed
(straight) razor were also found underneath the body. A razor case and
strop were found later in one of Ford's pockets.

I have no way of knowing for sure, but I'll assume that the sheriff
accompanied the coroner to the murder scene. It must have taken some time
for them to ride there on horseback from Abbeville. Possibly there was a phone
at the plantation. If not, someone was sent to Sheriff LeBlanc's office in
Abbeville. He and Dr. J. T. Abshire probably arrived at the crime scene
some hours later. Until these men rode up on their horses, Mr. Bagley
might have paced back and forth and replayed the fatal event over and over in
his bewildered mind as he waited for the authorities. The sound of that
fatal shot must have reverberated like rolling thunder within the confines of
the minds of those who had heard the pistol fire.

Flies, the insect version of vultures, arrived slowly and circled the body
that was covered to protect it from the elements and from buzzing flies.

The waters of the Vermilion River lapped in hushed tones against the barge
and the Mary Rose causing them to cradle Mr. Ford's body ever so tenderly.
These same waters seemingly slowed down as they approached this site, like
modern traffic approaching an accident. It was as though Mother Nature's
tears flowed past on the way to the Gulf.

Several curious townsmen may have accompanied Sheriff A. L. LeBlanc and
the coroner on that slow, unhurried ride to Bagley's. There was no rush; the
crime was over; the victim would wait.

Investigating the crime was done simply and quickly. There weren't any
crime-scene experts with vacuum cleaners, tweezers, plastic gloves and bags, or
fingerprint kits. Surely the current obligatory chalking around the
victim's body wasn't on the barge once the body was removed. Dr. Abshire
made a cursory examination of the body and pronounced Mr. Ford dead. That
was about it; forensic investigations were years away in the future. Dr.
Abshire held an inquest, so statements were taken from Martin Bagley and
those who may have witnessed the shooting and the events that led up to this
tragedy.

Mr. Ford's body was put in a wagon or a buckboard for the trip to Abbeville
and eventually to his last resting place. Mr. Bagley's horse was saddled
by one of his laborers; Bagley mounted his horse and was led, in all
probability, by Sheriff LeBlanc back to town and to jail. This single
story, soft-brick building had been built in 1882. By 1893, it had long
lost its youthful bloom and no longer provided any civic pride. Before its
replacement by the jail built in 1903 on the southeast corner of the courthouse
square, it would be condemned by several grand juries as well as by other
groups.

If Mr. Bagley had been so inclined and had he been placed in the misdemeanor
room, he might have broken out simply by punching a hole in the soft brick wall
with two sticks. One prisoner would escape in just that manner in 1899.
While this jail was unsanitary, and a "disgrace to civilization," at least it
didn't house bats as had the previous one.

When this jail, to which Bagley was brought, was turned over to Sheriff G. B.
Shaw in January 1882, it was modern and provided maximum security. It was
so secure that Lafayette parish Sheriff Mouton brought four prisoners to be
incarcerated in it in April 1882. In May 1882, a man accused of murder in
Lafayette parish was also brought to our jail. So modern in design
was this jail, it boasted natural lighting, good ventilation, and water tanks
and water pipes.

There was a jailer's room, a room for females, and a misdemeanor room.
In the main part of the jail were two "Panley's cages." These cages
arrived in Abbeville aboard the steamboat Fuller in January 1882. They
were large enough to house four inmates each. Martin Bagley probably wound
up in one of these cages because they were "for the confinement of unruly
prisoners and those charged with the commission of grave offenses."

There was even an exercise corridor for the prisoners. Finally, this
jail was so modern, the jailer could stand outside this main part of the jail
and still have complete control of the corridor and both cells. Such
control was possible because of "an admirable arrangement of locks, levers,
etc." Whatever its physical condition, Bagley's cell could not have come
close to the accommodations at his plantation. Did he have some initial
vision of the possibility of years of incarceration in such dismal
circumstances? His answer to such a possibility would be two years away
from that fateful Sunday in 1893. Until this trial in 1895, almost one
hundred years ago to the day that I am writing this article, Bagley would be in
and out of jail on bail several times.

This "most famous (case) ever tried before a Lafayette bar" began on October
17, 1895 and ended just two days later, on October 19, 1895. The defense
attorneys immediately asked for a continuance, based on the fact that two of
defense team were ill. Judge Allen was willing to postpone the case until
October 22nd, so that the defense could secure local representation, but
District Attorney Gordy objected, and the case "was ordered to trial." The
defense then sought a "bill of exceptions." They requested another bill of
exceptions when they learned that several of those called to jury duty
"had been excused without notice to the defense." In selecting the
jury, the state exhausted all of its "challenges," while the defense had used
only nine on that first day. Because the pool of those called to jury duty
was exhausted and because there were still two jurors to be selected, Judge
Allen ordered the sheriff to summon ten additional prospective jurors, so that
the remaining jurors could be selected.

The reporter from the New Orleans Picayune—the case was that significant that
this newspaper, and the New Orleans Times Democrat sent reporters to cover
it—described Martin Bagley as manifesting "very little, if any, apprehension for
a man whose life hangs on the scales of justice." In fact, this reporter
went on to say that Bagley was "so unconcerned in his general demeanor," that it
was impossible to know by looking that he was the defendant in this murder
trial. This reporter went on to portray Bagley as "a man of fine figure
and portly proportions," and added that Bagley commanded "considerable
attention." His "unconcerned," calm demeanor was certainly in counterpoint
to the emotions he displayed on the day of the fatal shooting. However,
although his life was possibly in jeopardy now, Bagley now had his powerful
lawyers to defend it; he felt confident in their legal abilities.

After two days of testimony, it was time for the summations. As usual,
District Attorney M. T. Gordy presented the case from the prosecution's point of
view. Thanks to the coverage of this trial by the Lafayette Advertiser, we
are able to know his summation. According to Mr. Gordy, this is how the
shooting came about. According to Gordy, Bagley had "willfully and
premeditatedly slaughtered his unoffending victim." District Attorney
Gordy said that Ford had been an employee at Bagley's plantation. After
some sort of disagreement, Bagley ordered Ford to leave the plantation.
Ford then went to the company store to settle his account and to return items
for which he could not pay. Apparently Bagley was still angry; he followed
Ford to the store where he ordered the manager, Mr. Ament, not to extend
additional credit to Mr. Ford. Inside the store the argument must have
rekindled. Further words of anger and hatred were then exchanged.

Mr. Ford then left the store and headed toward the barge and the Mary Rose.
Before following, Bagley took a .44 caliber pistol from the back of the store.
At the boat, the final confrontation between these two men took place. It
was the D.A.'s contention that "Ford was passing upon the deck of a steamer to
which the barge was attached..." Bagley, on the other hand, was standing
on the bank of the river some 15 to 20 feet away. After Ford refused to
put down the disputed mosquito bar as Bagley had ordered him to do, the fatal
shot was fired. (As you will recall a mosquito bar had been one of several
items found under Ford's body.) The prosecution rested.

It was now time for the defense to give its summation. Judge John Clegg
rose and proceeded to argue that his was a case of self defense, pure and
simple. He reminded the jury that a razor had been found near the body of
the victim. Actually, the report in 1893 indicated that a closed razor had
been found under the body of Mr. Ford, and that a razor case had been found in
one of the victim's pockets. Anyway, the defense argued that "Ford was
about to make an assault upon Bagley" with said razor, that the parties were in
very close proximity to each other, and that Bagley's life was in imminent
danger when he fired the shot. The defense also argued that Ford had
"grossly insulted, and threatened the life of the accused, that Bagley
acted solely and purely in protection of his life."

Please recall that Bagley had his "dream team" [my quotation marks] of five
lawyers. It was Mr. Southon, alone, who spoke for two hours and presented
"a strong masterly case."

The jury found Martin Bagley "not guilty," after deliberating for only
"a very short time." So, after two years of what I've called "judicial limbo,"
Martin Bagley was a free man. While fate was kind to him in this instance,
it had not always been so, nor would it be so in his future. Sheriff
Alphonse L. LeBlanc, who had jailed Bagley after the shooting, was not there to
learn the outcome of this trial. Sheriff LeBlanc died in his 30th year, on
May 3, 1895, of Bright's disease—a kidney disorder.